Aidan wasn’t feeling better any time soon so I’d gone to eat dinner by myself. The campsite cafe and bar had WiFi, so I got busy trying to find out the cheapest and quickest way of getting a new cooling fan for Seven. It was harder to find than first anticipated (long shipping times to Turkey being a major hinderance). So I soon gave up, thinking I’d call the BMW places in Bursa and Izmir the next day, see how much they charge for a new one.
I skyped my dad instead and we carried on chatting long after they’d closed the bar and switched off the lights. Then I crawled into bed too, suddenly feeling painfully sick myself. We’d both got heat stroke running around in the sun, trying to fix Seven!
And we’d got it bad. I couldn’t keep any water down and Aidan only managed to sip his. We slept in the tent, till it got too hot and then curled up outside, following the shade around as the sun moved east to west, incapable of anything else all day. The campsite is right on the beach with a beach volleyball net and straw parasols. But we were too sick to notice.
The next day we gingerly crawled out of bed and sipped some water for breakfast. I called BMW in Izmir and finally got a guy who spoke a tiny bit of English, but was completely the wrong department. He said he’d check with the parts guys and call me back. I also emailed BMW in Bursa. Whether we’d order the part online would depend on whether these guys have it available and at what price.
So waiting for their reply, we rode two up on Pippa into town. Aidan’s visa was running out soon, and he wanted to extend it. Google said you have to go to the police station for this. The Jandarmes had no idea and stopped a passer-by so he could translate their directions to the Polis into English. The guy ended up walking us there, as it was on his way.
At the Polis, they waved, opened the door of their tiny reception booth and told us to squeeze in and sit down. None spoke English, so Aidan typed “visa extension” into a translation website on their computer in the corner. “Ah, come here!” We were led one floor up and sat down in a small office and had to explain what we wanted again. “Maybe upstairs!” Up another floor and sat in front of another desk…. This carried on until we reached a tiny winding staircase to the top floor. The guys up here didn’t even bother with uniforms anymore. A son was called to translate and inform us we should go to a bigger town. We left with firm handshakes and sincere good luck wishes, but no visa extension.
Back at the campsite we sat in the cafe and spent the best part of two hours trying to eat a bowl of chips.
Both BMW places had got back to us saying they’d have to order the part from Germany, which would take 15 days. A new cooling fan cost 250 euros. So we ordered a used one on the German Ebay to be sent to my dads in Berlin. He would send it on from there. Now we just needed a place to stay till it arrived, so we contacted another workaway place near Izmir, see if they would have us. They are building an earthship in a small village so that sounds pretty interesting.
The sea was calling and we finally jumped in. I thought it was refreshingly cool but Aidan came out a shivering icicle. At least we’d worked up a tiny appetite and ordered a small plate of kofte and salad… Only to find ourselves buried under heaps of kofte, chips, salad, beans, bean-salad, aubergine salad, tomatoes, bread and a couple of other unidentifiable eggy things.
Erdem (the workaway guy) confirmed we could stay there and a plan was hatched to leave really early in the morning and ride till the engine almost overheated. Then stop till it cools down and so on, all the way to the house they have rented in Payamli.